


Stolen Autonomy

by Felinafullstop



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, The Final Problem, You Can't Win Them All, You can't always change people, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:41:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27455134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felinafullstop/pseuds/Felinafullstop
Summary: Events of this story happen DIRECTLY after the events of "The Final Problem."Greg is trying to open Mycroft's eyes to his actions, he only prays the elder Holmes wishes to change. Though Gregory Lestrade would be the first person to tell you, he's not sure Mycroft CAN change.This is also a personal reflection of my own experiences. I own those experiences and reflect on them daily. There are some people you cannot hope to change. There are some people who do not know that they hurt people. There are some people you love so much, that you MUST let them go because they can't love you enough to understand what they do wrong.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	Stolen Autonomy

**Author's Note:**

> "Things don't go wrong and break your heart so you can become bitter and give up. They happen to break you down and build you up so you can be all that you were intended to be."  
> — Charles Jones (Life is Tremendous)

It has been six hours since the crime scene was closed off, and people were dismissed from the scene. Sherlock and John have long gone home. Mycroft, for his measure, had stood silent guard over the scene. Frustrated, infuriated, remorseful. Greg had watched all those faces as he combed the scene over before letting the governmental agency run by Mycroft to take over. 

  
It's four in the morning when Mycroft is finally able to be pried away from the scene. Greg does as Sherlock had asked, checked in on him. The funny thing is Greg is now certain Sherlock knows he and Mycroft have been together. Keeping it on the down-low might not be as easy anymore. 

  
Greg is slow as he opens the door and allows Mycroft in. The security detail nods at him and goes back down the hall; they aren't leaving, he knows. They will give them space, and for now, that's enough.

  
Mycroft turns to look at him, clearly pained. "What have I done?" Mycroft asks. "I-" his words fail him. 

  
"Hindsight is like that, Dove." Greg's heard all the statements, trying to piece together something that makes sense in his mind, but he always comes back to Mycroft. He always comes back to his own lingering confusion about Mycroft's motives. 

  
"But I did everything right!" Mycroft demands. "I was protecting people!" he barks. 

  
Greg pushes his hands into his pockets and nods, "You were protecting yourself from potential fallout." He nods. "You kept control of a situation for as long as you could and kept the people you cared about and loved at arm's length. There was no way this was going to end differently." Greg can't be convinced otherwise.

  
Mycroft looks angry now, hurt. "I thought you would understand!" 

  
"I do," Greg leans against the front door. Purposeful, a blockade. "I completely understand," he says. "But you did this to ...shield yourself from the fallout, love." He tilts his head. "This is your own fault." 

  
"I did this to protect people!" Mycroft looks to deflate but sits down, confused; it's clearly written all over his face. "I am good at my job." He murmurs, but it comes out confused and unsure.

  
"This, what happened tonight, it has nothing to do with your job." Greg frees a hand to gesture around. "You cannot control everything. You cannot be ON all of the time. You can't. You can't move people around like chess pieces on a game board. People have free will, Mycroft." He walks forward and comes to kneel in front of the overstuffed leather chair. "You can't be angry when your pieces start moving on their own. You cannot control it. And you cannot solely take the blame for the board getting out of your hands like you're meant to keep it in check." 

  
Mycroft looks up. "I should be the one to-" 

  
"No-" Greg frowns, "No, you shouldn't. If people could do that, I would be out of a job, and trust me when I say I'd welcome that." 

  
"Shut up-" Mycroft stands abruptly.

  
Greg knows he doesn't want to be cornered. "You're an animal, Mycroft." It is said so faintly. 

  
Mycroft turns to him, looking at him skeptically. "I beg your pardon." 

  
Greg smiles but holds up his hands, "you don't like to be wrong. I get that. You don't want to face the truth. When you get cornered with it, you run. You're all fight until you can't win. Then you're all flight when the truth doesn't suit you." 

  
Mycroft turns, furious, "I AM THE TRUTH!" 

  
"Because you show everyone what the truth has to be. You only look at your truth; you have to start looking at the truth of others. You have to start understanding those things won't always align," Greg turns to the kitchen. "I'll make tea." He says with a sigh. 

  
"Do you know what I've been through!? What she did?" he gestures wildly to the door. "What she-"

  
Greg nods, "As a direct result of your own actions." He grabs the small kettle and fills it with water. "I know what happened. I've read all the statements-"

  
Mycroft interrupts him, "Are you calling this my fault?" Mycroft turns now, "that I did this on purpose?!" he's getting loud again. 

  
"I'm not saying you meant for this to happen, no. I'm saying you had a part in everything that happened to get us to tonight," Greg turns on the front stovetop burner and sets the kettle down. He comes back out, shucking off his coat to lay over the couch. He has to control his tone, keep it level. "I'm just a detective. I have to look at the evidence around me." he nods. "It's up to other people to interpret that evidence." He says, tapping the couch. "But, you caused this, and you stand here shocked it ever got this far. You don't understand why everyone is a mess right now because you can't understand them. You were never good at empathy. My, that's a fact, it's not a fault." Greg shrugs, "you can't look at the people who were hurt tonight and tell them they are wrong for being angry at you." 

  
Mycroft looks out the window, "My God." He murmurs, standing there, eyes wet. 

  
Greg walks up behind him and wraps his arms around him. "I love you." He nods, "I'm right here." 

  
Mycroft doesn't move for the longest of moments. He nods but doesn't speak. Greg squeezes tighter before letting him go. 

  
Greg decides he needs to speak again, "We will get through this, Mycroft." Mycroft reaches in his pocket and pulls out an embroidered handkerchief for his eyes. 

  
"How do I fix it?" Mycroft asks suddenly, "What I've done? Do I say I'm sorry? Do I pay?" 

  
"Think we're a little bit past that," Greg says, going to the kitchen. The kettle is steaming but not whistling yet. 

  
"I want to fix it."

  
"My, you can't fix it, Dove," Greg readies some sugar and spoons. "It's already happened. You can't pay it off, change it, remove it. You can't make it, so it never happened. We can try to ease the blowback, but facing what happened is probably for the better." 

  
"I'm so sorry," 

  
"I don't doubt that you are sorry. I'm sure you are. Are you sorry for the right reasons, though?" Greg asks. "That's what we need to know, the collective we, the world, all of us." A waved gesture. 

  
"What do you mean?" Mycroft asks. 

  
Greg looks up at that, "Are you sorry for how it happened? Or sorry because it got out of your hands?" 

  
Mycroft looks at him blankly. "I-" 

  
"It's alright if you don't know the answer to that question, Dove." Greg nods. "But, you probably should stay scarce from your family, from Sherlock, from everyone." 

  
"And you?" 

  
"Well, you're here, aren't you?" Greg smiles at him. 

  
Mycroft comes away from the window and into the kitchen. "I'm sorry." 

  
"I know you are." Greg smiles. "And I know your first instinct is to do all in your power to make it right." He nods, "But bribing people and making people vanish won't fix it." 

  
"Isn't that what one is supposed to do?" He turns his face away, clearly thinking deeply. "Try to repair what's been shattered?" 

  
"When they break a window, yeah." Greg looks up. "Dove, you've broken people, that's wholly different, and I'm upset you can't see the difference. People are not things, Mycroft. You can't just pick up a new one at Tesco when things go sideways. " 

  
Mycroft frowns, "What would you have done differently?" 

  
"You don't want me to answer that," Greg says as the kettle starts to scream. Mycroft looks hurt by that statement, "you don't." 

  
"Gregory..." Mycroft looks down and wipes his eyes again. "Have I broken, us?" He is narrowing his scope, and Greg thinks it is at least a start of something good. 

  
Greg has to take a moment to process that question as he pours the tea. "I am not sure, but I want the opportunity for us to work this out. I wasn't lying when I said I love you. I think we can both learn from this,"

  
"And if we can't, work it out?" Mycroft looks up at him. 

  
"Cross that bridge when we get there, Dove." He nods at the teacup. "Sit, have a cuppa, calm yourself down." he nods. "Nothing will be solved-" He looks out the window at the sunrise starting to brighten the horizon. "This morning." 

  
Mycroft scrubs his face with his hands and stares down into the teacup Greg sets before him. Greg walks up beside him and turns him to face him. Greg uses gentle hands to reach up and unscrew one of the beads on Mycroft's tie bar. He sets it aside as he pulls the bar free and then connects the pieces setting them aside. 

  
He reaches up, pulling the knot gently down, and starts to undo Mycroft's tie. Mycroft is unbuttoning his waistcoat at the same time. "Let's get you comfortable." Greg finally says. "Then, we'll get you some rest." That's the best that Greg can manage right now.

  
Mycroft grabs his wrist, "Gregory?"

  
"I'm right here." Greg says with a smirk, "we have a lot of things to talk about, but not this morning."

  
Mycroft starts to speak, but Greg takes his face in his hands and kisses him silent. "Shhhhh." he murmurs. "Shhh." 

  
Mycroft breaks like a dam and grabs onto him. They stand there, holding each other, Mycroft sobbing. This will either go in one of two ways, Greg knows. Mycroft will think he has learned something, change nothing, go right back to being as he was, and find that he is lost in a world with no one to stand beside him. Or, Mycroft will learn from this, become better, change, and see the world anew with those who care for him at his side. Greg hopes for the latter, but the choice is Mycroft's. Unfortunately, Greg knows, already, the choice Mycroft will make. 

  
Perhaps it was all inevitable. Perhaps he didn't try hard enough to change it himself, steer Mycroft in a better direction. Greg has always hated the statement 'it is what it is.' However, in this case, it's apt and appropriate. Mycroft will be the one to determine what comes of all this, and as he does, he robs Autonomy from those around him to protect his well-built walls. 

  
Greg only prays that there's a place where the rest take refuge because if he cannot change Mycroft's mind and heart, he'll be just as adrift as they all are now. 

The End. 

* * *


End file.
